


Infinitesimal

by Nixiie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys Kissing, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Growing Up, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Post-Canon, University, seriously so much kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixiie/pseuds/Nixiie
Summary: Years have passed, and high school has ended, and Hinata Shouyou and Kozume Kenma are roommates in university. Hinata misses volleyball, he misses his team, he misses his high school life. Now that all of his dreams have come true he doesn't know what do without them, or what to do with himself. Who is he without volleyball? Kenma sees his friend's crisis and knows he has to do something. Maybe together they can build a new dream.Sounds sad, but i promise it's also super cute and fluffy.





	Infinitesimal

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic without the PWP tag! 
> 
> This idea has been rolling around in my head for about 6 months, but i really, really didn't mean to write it yet. I meant to rewatch Haikyuu!! and get better at writing and... I couldn't sleep the other night and it kinda started writing itself. And in 24 hours it was this, and it was so easy it kind of feels like cheating. I'm sorry if my characterizations are off, this really felt like a fever i just had to get on paper. 
> 
> I'll likely have a look at editing it in a few days, but for now please enjoy this thing i couldn't not write.

When Kenma gets back to their dorm room that night, Shouyou isn't there. Both beds are empty on their opposite walls, and Shouyou’s side of the room is in disarray, his belongings strewn in messy piles. Kenma knows that his friend is not ok. The usually cheerful Shouyou has been increasingly withdrawn, shutting down, disappearing from classes, from their room. Kenma knows where he’s going, but he doesn’t know what to do. He’s not one to show his emotions, not one to get invested in other people’s problems, or in anything really. But he does care about Shouyou, and this is not getting better on it’s own. The redhead is falling apart and Kenma doesn’t know how to fix it, but he only has a few friends, and they matter, and he can’t just watch anymore. He sighs and heads for the gym.  
  
It had taken a while for Shouyou’s usual enthusiasm to slip. At first he had been excited about university, about the change. He had ridden that excitement all summer, getting up to teenage shenanigans with his friends, his team, pointedly not thinking about volleyball. And for the first few months of the autumn it had held him, “Look Kenma! There’s meat in the dining hall! I can eat as much as i want!” “Tokyo is so cool! I want to see the Skytree! No! The zoo! No! The Owl Cafe!...” “I can choose whatever classes i want? Ooooh there’s one on traditional japanese sports! Should i take math? What about agriculture? That could be interesting!” He had been so excited to join his usually distant friend at school, to get to see Kenma every day, to even share a room with him.  
  
But as weeks flowed into months, that enthusiasm has slipped, giving way to something he doesn’t have a name for. It’s over. His dream since childhood has come true. And what is he without it?  
  
He could still play volleyball he supposes, there are adult teams, it could be a hobby. And he had tried at first, but it wasn’t the same, his teammates weren’t _his_ teammates. Somehow without Kageyama’s setting his spikes just felt empty. And besides, the stakes were low and the interest of the players lower; even his sunny enthusiasm couldn’t carry them all. Volleyball had been his life, his dreams, he had lived and breathed it since he was a little kid, and he had made it to the pinnacle of that obsession, had faced Nekoma at Nationals, had beaten everyone's expectations, of his short stature, of his downtrodden team. He had been there. He had lived it. And then life had continued, and all the flavor had gone out of it.  
  
He still hears from his teammates. There are still good natured arguments and raucous group chats, but it isn’t the same. He misses them. He misses everything. He just wants to go back. Back to being a kid, back to being excited, back to not having to think about this shit. Not having to grow up. He slams another ball against the wall and the sting in his hands is almost a relief.  
  
He stares at his red palm. He’s done this so many times. The pain is familiar. The pain of success, of triumph, of landing a powerful spike. But now.... it’s almost comforting. He’s never liked the pain itself, just the feelings that come with it, but now it’s almost enough on its own. It’s almost enough to make him remember. Make him feel something other than emptiness. He takes another ball and slams it hard against the wall. And another, and another, again and again and again, until he’s panting and shaking, and his hands hurt so much he wants to cry. And it’s almost, almost enough.  
  
When Kenma finds him he’s still serving against the wall, slamming ball after ball with shaking arms. They ricochet back, bouncing across the empty gym. Shouyou’s face is almost as red as his hair, and he’s heaving with exertion, his boundless energy finally run dry. Kenma goes to him, wraps him in his arms. Kenma has grown a little since high school, but he’s still small. Shouyou is smaller, and their bodies fit together comfortably. “I know,” he mumbles, “I know. I miss it too.”  
  
There are tears brimming in Shouyou’s usually bright eyes as he looks up at his friend. For as long as he can remember his life has been driven by a singular passion. It’s fueled his longing, his drive to win. And now it’s misplaced. There's nowhere to put it. The passion has gone, and in its place is just all this crushing emptiness. He feels like he’s drowning.  
  
Kenma’s words are gentle “I didn’t love it like you did, it was just something to do... but when we faced each other on the court, i felt it. We were part of something.” And as he holds Shouyou to his chest, and the other boy rests his face against Kenma’s shoulder he feels it again. Feels the connection, their friendship that was never a rivalry, despite the history of their teams. Feels that passion they left on the court between them, and he understands. “Maybe we’re still part of something.“  
  
Shouyou looks up, damp eyes questioning, not trusting the promise in those words, _what are they part of anymore?_ And then he sees the gentle look in Kenma’s eyes, and the deep caring there that his friend so seldom shows about anything, and then he feels it too. It’s just a spark, just the beginning of something, but it’s something new. Something other than this cavernous emptiness. They’re almost nose to nose, and Shouyou closes the distance.

The kiss is shy at first, lips just barely brushing, disbelief running through both of them. But then Shouyou feels it, feels Kenma’s body grounding him, feels his arms, and his warmth, and his safety and it’s like he can breathe again. And he’s plummeting into the kiss, mouth opening, hands grasping at the other boy’s shoulders, his back, anything he can reach. It’s wet, and messy, and uncoordinated, and it’s beautiful. And he’s breathless in a different way now, wonderfully breathless, elatedly breathless, as their tongues slide together, and Kenma runs a hand through Shouyou’s messy, sweaty hair, and rests it on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, holding him tighter.

When they eventually break apart, they’re both gasping, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. Kenma smiles, he wasn’t planning this, but it feels so right somehow. It’s hard for him to care, hard for him to let things in, but he let Shouyou in a long time ago. Shouyou is like sunshine. His enthusiasm for life is as infectious as it is annoying, and Kenma can’t imagine not wanting to kiss him. “Come on,” he says taking Shouyou’s hand, “Let’s go back to the room.” And the younger boy’s face breaks into that radiant smile that Kenma hasn’t seen in weeks, and he thinks maybe everything will be ok.

It takes them a few minutes catch their breath, and to clean up the scattered balls. When they open the door of the gym it’s pouring and Shouyou giggles. He doesn’t let go of Kenma’s hand as they dash back through the rain to their dorm.

When they get back to their room, together this time, they can’t quite look at each other. Somehow the manic energy of the run through the rain is quieted in the familiar space, where they have been many things to each other, but never this. The room’s familiarity is oppressive in the face of their revelation, and as they strip out of wet clothes and change into dry they avoid each other's gaze.

Shouyou’s bed is a mess, he doesn’t know what to do with his body. He fidgets, wanting to throw himself under the covers, to hide from this sudden tension between them. They’re too close, the room too small to hold both of them. And then Kenma is right in front of him, taking his hand, and pulling him into his bed. They collapse together, falling into each other's arms like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like they’ve done this a thousand times, but their pounding heartbeats betray the newness of it. Shouyou is nervous, but he’s smiling, brown eyes luminous. Everything he’s failed to feel for the last few months is rushing back, and he wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but then Kenma is kissing him again, and there’s no space for the laughter to escape. It stays inside him, melts, first into a comfortable warmth, and then a furious hunger. And Shouyou realizes he hasn’t lost anything after all, he’s just grown, and growing hurts, but it’s also beautiful, because now he gets to do this.  

Shouyou kisses back with everything inside him, all the passion he hasn’t known how to feel, all the loneliness and the pain evaporating in the light that’s pouring into him. They kiss for hours, hands exploring each other’s bodies, timid at first, but quickly gaining confidence as breaths sigh with permission and bodies shiver with the pleasure of touch. They kiss until their lips are swollen, until they can’t breathe; and then they keep kissing, mouths finding necks, ears, chests: tongues and lips following the paths that hands have discovered.

Slowly, steadily, they work their way out of their clothing. Kenma traces kisses over the trail of freckles on Shouyou’s shoulder, his hair falling around his flushed face in a curtain. Shouyou leaves a bruise on Kenma’s neck, he doesn’t mean to, but the appreciative sounds coming from the other boy’s throat are impossible not to encourage. They kiss like the world is ending, like it’s the only thing that matters, until they’re sweating and shaking and coming apart in each others arms. Until they are too tired to think or move anymore and they drift off to sleep still tangled in each other’s limbs.

And the next day, when Shouyou cleans up his half of the room, they push their beds together, so they can always sleep like that, curled together, bodies intertwined, holding loneliness at bay with each other’s bodies, and their shared hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> Named after [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9s4utB-1aX8)
> 
> If you enjoyed this i’d love a kudos or comment! They seriously make my day.


End file.
